


Destiny, Legacy

by Kattfraank



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Ghost John Laurens, Ham is done, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lafayette - Freeform, Later chapters will be better I promise, M/M, Mild Language, Modern Era, New York City, Reincarnation, Sad, So done, ghost - Freeform, language warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattfraank/pseuds/Kattfraank
Summary: ((Rewritten, Chapter two soon)) Francis lived a normal, decent life for 20 years. His family was boring, old, and borderline abusive. They wanted a business man, and that wasn’t him, so they kicked him out. So, Francis moved to NYC with the money he had, in hopes of finding a purpose.What he got instead was the ghost of John Laurens following him around and the memories of Alexander Hamilton. He insists he has a much greater destiny. But, I mean, seriously, who really falls for that destiny bullcrap anyways?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I see so many reincarnation fics where hamilton gets his memories back or something and he's like "yEET IM HAMILTON AND OH WOW UR MY BFF AND OH HEY BURR ITS OKAY LETS ALL BE HAPPY!!1!1" and there's always one thing they forget: The reincarnated person had a life before, ya know? A life that maybe wasn't so pretty.
> 
> Sooooo I made this to fuel my desire for reincarnation angst. Also I like the idea of the person slowly becoming more like their souls as their memories become more intense and vivid yes? Yes.

"HHhh.." Francis quickly sat upright on his bed, cringing at the bright lights in his room. He had woken up like this numerous times, head slamming with pain as he franticly searched for his sunglasses. He's gotten use to it now, already having multiple pairs on his dresser.

"Rise and shine, bitch."  
"Laurens? What the fu-"  
"Don't give me that, get dressed, you need to be forcibly removed from this apartment." Laurens huffed, crossed arms over his chest.

He looked outside the window, confused as a few drops of rain splashed it. "Wha-"  
"Get. Up."  
"Okay, okay! Yeesh.."

***

Francis scuffed down his food quickly, earning a glare from the waitress serving him. He doesn't remember the name of the place he was in, still slightly buzzed from his night. Laurens sat across from him, head in his hands.

"Have you thought about it?"  
"About what?" Francis shot back at him, sipping a glass of cola.  
"Finding the others, of course!" Laurens looked offended.  
"Oh, yeah, about that.. No."  
"What do you mean 'no'?! Don't you see what I'm trying to do here? Everything has gone to shit. We have to do something, and soon."

"As if I asked to be the reincarnation of Alexander Hamilton," He sighed, "I'm my own, separate person now. This is a second chance to just be.. Normal. To see what I helped create in all it's 'glory'." He looked out the window by his side and huffed at the now pouring rain.

"Yeah, you keep saying that." Laurens hummed. "You don't even act like your old self, the old you I knew well and lov-"

"The old me is broken, Laurens. Worn from the stress of the affair. Torn by the death of Phillip. Murdered by my first friend, my enemy." He clutched his own shirt tightly, looking down. "I'm not allowing myself to go down the path you want me to go down. I don't want to find the others, even if that side of me misses them so dearly.."

"But, Hamilton,"  
"No, I'm Francis Dread. Not.. Not him."  
"..Francis, listen, you were given a second chance for good reason, and it's not sitting around working a dumb office job or playing with that iphone thing all night!"  
"Just.. shut up for a few minutes. People are starting to stare."

He looked up from his seat and sighed as two couples and family quickly looked away.

"Let them stare. Being around them so much has made me pick up their weird accents.." Francis shook his head.

Laurens' eyes softened as he placed a hand on top of Francis', making him look up at him frustratedly.

"You've spent 20 years sheltered from the truth of who you are, born as the only child of two rich, forgotten no-bodies. Have you never felt like you were worth so much more? Did I give you your memories too late?"

"Waitress, Check please!"

  
"Francis, please, answer me."

He handed the waitress two ten dollar bills, and she nodded, giving him his check.

He quickly stood up, grabbing his phone and wallet while popping up his umbrella. John silently floated behind him, waiting until they were outside.

"Francis?"

He pushed the door open and took a deep breath. "Laurens, I'm nothing more then one man against 7 billion people. There's nothing more to discover or fight for, so just let me enjoy this life without opening 200 year old wounds."

***

For a while, things seemed to go in a cycle, until Francis quit his day job and started staying home instead of going to a club. He still drank whatever alcohol he could find, as if his health didn't really matter. His rich parents gave him all their money, he could do whatever he wanted. Laurens hardly talked to him, just watched silently or begged him to at least go outside and smell the fresh air every once and a while.

Days stretched into weeks which bled into months, and Francis seemed to be glued to his phone, texting some guy he said was a long time friend. He never got his name, but Francis seemed to be content.

John found himself fiddling with his thumbs on another rainy day rather quickly. They were silent as they walked down the flooded streets.

He watched as the couples and teens laughed and yelped, most of them desperately trying not to get wet. After all the years he's spent as a spirit, he couldn't find the Hamilton he loved, he was gone. His bright and hopeful eyes were lost in time. Replaced with bitter, depressing ones.

"Where are we going, Francis?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair.  
"Washington Square Park. I'm meeting someone there."

Laurens eyes grow suspicious. "I swear if it's something illegal.."

"It's almost 2pm, I'm not that stupid John.." He looked around, grumbling to himself.

As they turned the corner, the entrance was as clear as day, and happily, empty.  
They waited in silence for his friend, Francis texting on his phone obnoxiously.  
"Are you sure this guy is even going to show up?" Laurens voice seem to give-way.

Francis gave him a weird look. "He will."  
It went silent for a while, then a young man in rain coat rode past them on a bicycle, getting Francis' pants soaked from a puddle in front of them.

"Bien Monsieur! So sorry about that!" He frantically stopped, kicking down the kick stand of the bike.

"that's the guy?"

His face lit up. "All is forgiven, Absolon." He smiled eagerly at the man, nodding his head.

"Is that.." Laurens felt a wave of emotions, hope clear as day in his face.

Francis ignored him, "Do you have it?"

"Of course! Here." He handed him a small yellow envelope which he stuffed in his pocket.

"Why you are banded from the electronic store, Francis?" He laughed.

"They don't like my 'Imaginary friend' I always argue with.." He sighed, a blush creeping on his face.

Absolon's face fell "Ah, still having those problems? I worry for you, mon amie.."  
"Well, don't. I'm fine."

Laurens huffed. "When I touch people, I give them their memories back, right? Maybe If I touch your friend here, I mean, just to see what would happen?"

Francis' eyes widened so big he thought they'd pop out. "Don't even try!" His voice went horse.

"Don't what?" Absolon stepped forward protectively as Lauren's swooped behind him.

"Maybe this is what you need, Hamilton! A good.." Laurens forcibly placed both hands on Absolon's back, his own form fading out quickly. "Push!"

Absolon's face seemed to drain of emotion, his eyes slowly falling. "H-Hamilton?" He whispered as he fell into Francis' arms, Francis tried to hold his weight, but ended up falling over with him.

Francis frantically pushed Absolon off to yell, but Laurens was nowhere in sight.

***

Francis paced the hall to his bedroom and bathroom, a million thoughts going through his head. He had put some crackers and a glass of water by the bed where Absolon laid, but he still hadn't even heard a creak yet. He wondered where Laurens was, for once actually wanting his reassurance even if he was the reason for all this. Tears began to fall from his weakened body and he stopped dead in his tracks.

He tried not to think about who Absolon was to him in his past life, because it didn't matter. Their friendship won't be the same after this.

He wanted to punch a wall, cry out in pain. Everything was starting to be too much to bare. He was hiding from his feelings, along with all the memories, old and new. He let out a loud sob, pushing his back against the wall and falling on his butt.

He cried, only watching helplessly as images for his past life and this life flooded his vision.

He didn't hear the door to his bedroom open, or feel his friend take him into his arms, or see the look of pain on his face as he cradled him. He was helpless, finally letting it all sink in.

***

Laurens didn't show up for the next month, and Absolon stayed with Francis through it. They cooked meals, watched Netflix all day and talked about their past life openly. Absalon was Lafayette. They laughed at how odd it was that they met each other in this life and become good friends, as if the waves of destiny always followed them.

Absolon couldn't stay any longer, fearing he had already took too many vacation days from work. They agreed that more was to be talked about, on a better day.  
He had said goodbye, told him to stay safe, and closed the door. He was alone. Actually alone.

***

Like every other night, Francis couldn't sleep. He was half awake, sitting at the desk in his room trying to think.  
He had felt the presence of another person for a few minutes, felt their eyes watching his every move. He was always good at that.

"John?"  
"Yeah.."  
"Took your time, huh? Sorry." He sighed, shifting away from his desk.  
"I should be the one saying that."  
"Yeah." He huffed.

Francis scanned his eyes over his bed, letting his mind wonder. "Where did you go?"

It wasn't abnormal for Laurens to pop out whenever he pleased, but he hadn't left for this long before, Francis was almost worried.

"Afterlife."  
"Ah. How was it?" Francis finally looked up at him.  
Laurens shrugged, sitting down on the bed. "Boring." He was lying through his teeth.  
"Oh." He didn't press him.

"You need sleep, dear."  
Francis laughed. "Sure." He stood himself, shaking slightly. He looked down at his t-shirt and shorts, slumped, and fell into his bed.

"Promise me something?"  
"Anything."  
"Don't give anyone else their memories, please. They don't deserve to be tortured like me."

"Yes.."  
Francis closed his eyes, falling all too quickly into quiet, safe sleep.  
Laurens had laughed slyly, head tilted to one side. "Too late."  
   
 †††


End file.
